He breathed a heavy sigh, and said in a gentle voice, “Come to thy father, child: thou art not well.”

Tom was assisted to his feet, and approached the Majesty of England, humble and trembling. The King took the frightened face between his hands, and gazed earnestly and lovingly into it awhile, as if seeking some grateful sign of returning reason there, then pressed the curly head against his breast, and patted it tenderly.

Presently he said —

“Dost not know thy father, child? Break not mine old heart; say thou know’st me. Thou dost know me, dost thou not?”

“Yea: thou art my dread lord the King, whom God preserve!”

“True, true — that is well —